


words more naked than flesh

by Lacerta26



Series: In the crooks of your body, I find my religion [4]
Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Fisting, Intimacy, Kink Exploration, M/M, Post-Canon, Sexual Experimentation, Tenderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:21:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29072460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lacerta26/pseuds/Lacerta26
Summary: Richard wants to try something, Thomas wants to give it to him.
Relationships: Thomas Barrow/Richard Ellis
Series: In the crooks of your body, I find my religion [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2045792
Comments: 8
Kudos: 28





	words more naked than flesh

**Author's Note:**

> What's the solution to two sad fics in a row? Four and a half thousands words of straight up pornography, apparently!
> 
> Heed the tags - if this isn't your cup of tea best to head out now.
> 
> Title from Sappho. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! ^_^

Richard looks beautiful like this, on his back in _their_ bed, while Thomas gets him ready. His eyes are closed, his head thrown back and he’s clutching at the bedsheets fretfully. It’s almost as if he’s trying to get away from the pleasure, not let it overwhelm him, but he’s still arching into the touch as Thomas works gentle fingers inside him, three now, because they’ve been at this for ages and it’s worth it to see the way Richard falls apart, slowly and with such certainty. 

Thomas has very little patience when it comes to himself, he’s always trying to get Richard to hurry along to the good bit, but like this he has all the time in the world to give Richard exactly what he wants; spend all his energy on the build up, delay his own gratification to focus on Richard’s.

‘How’s that?’ Thomas rubs teasing circles with his free hand into Richard’s hip, soft skin over the jut of bone. 

‘More,’ Richard’s eyes are closed, his mouth open, just letting the sounds fall out, catching on every consonant as he shifts against Thomas’s hand.

Thomas chuckles, rotates his wrist and feels his fingers move together inside, ‘isn’t this enough?’

Richard is smiling, beatific, as he shakes his head, ‘please, more.’

‘You’ve already got three of my fingers, do you really want another?’ 

He can feel how tense Richard is around him, held at the precipice of asking for what he really wants instead of just letting them carry on with the fuck they were planning. Thomas thinks he knows what’ll be, what Richard is dying to say; Richard isn’t shy about these things, he always asks for what he wants and Thomas hopes it’s something he can give him. 

Richard doesn’t hesitate in the end, says it like it was already in his mouth, ‘not just another, everything, all of it.’

Thomas swallows, speaks, to clarify, before he’s really caught up with what Richard is saying, because he’d guessed right and his voice is always ahead of him when they’re together like this.

‘My whole hand, my fist.’ 

He closes his eyes against the pull of arousal he feels at saying the words out loud and when he opens them Richard is looking at him, eyes half lidded, desperate, _‘yes_.’

Their breathing seems louder in his own head somehow and he can feel all the places they’re touching, his hand at Richard’s hip, Richard’s thighs spread around his own. The smell of them, sex and the oily sent of vaseline, going right to his head. He hasn’t stopped moving, not really, carried right on with slow, little pulls of his fingers all the time they were talking and Richard is so relaxed now Thomas knows he could do it; pull out, readjust, go back in with all four of his fingers, more, but this is something they should talk about first. Thomas likes to know what’s expected of him. 

And there’s no harm in talking about it now. 

‘Have you done it before?’ 

It’s not an accusation, Thomas has no time to be jealous now, he just needs to know. It’s comforting if at least one of them has experience of this and Richard won’t leave him stranded in uncertainty.

‘Once.’

‘And you liked it? Before. You’d like it now?’

‘ _Yes.’_

Apparently that is all Richard is capable of saying in the present moment and Thomas shifts his hand again, watches Richard’s prick twitch, the tip wet against his belly. He’s shining with sweat, by turns loose, his limbs soft, and then tense again.

‘What does it feel like?’

Richard tips his head back and finds his voice, ‘like everything. Like being taken apart and put back together and like you’re so full it creates a space that can’t ever _be_ filled.’

He looks back up, then, right into Thomas’s eyes, face open and Thomas spreads his fingers, flattens them, betrays himself with the way his eyes drop to the place that they’re joined and Richard laughs at him, ‘yeah, _yeah_.’ 

‘And if I did that, another time, next time, would you like that too?’

The shifting of Richard’s hips is revealing enough and Thomas goes with the movement, letting Richard control the pace as he pulls his fingers out to the tips and pushes back in, just to his knuckles. His other hand is braced at Richard’s thigh, keeping them both grounded. 

‘How would it feel? How long would it take? We’ve been here for a while already and you’ve only taken three.’ 

_Only_ as if that isn’t significant in and of itself but Richard is clearly enjoying it, hearing Thomas say these things, whisper to him all the ways they could touch each other, inside and out. In the moment it’s easy to give voice to their desires, it's only after that the uncertainty returns, if Thomas lets it, if he forgets that Richard is here to stay and what they want for themselves is for each other too. 

Richard doesn’t speak but his face gives him away, he’s close, it won’t take much now and Thomas can’t wait to watch it happen so he carries on talking, doesn’t still the movement of his hand. 

‘How would it feel, do you think, to have me that deep inside of you?’

‘Jesus _Christ,_ Thomas. _Touch me._ ’

The only thing Thomas wants to do is to give Richard what he’s asking for. So he shifts forward to stroke him once, twice and watch in wonder as Richard comes, body bowed and tight like a vice around Thomas’s fingers. It’s almost a shock, the finality of it, the force of it shaking through him, as Richard sinks back into the bed, utterly satisfied. 

Richard’s hands are clumsy as he pulls Thomas down, kisses him with lazy dedication and the firm cut of his hip is enough for Thomas’s to rut his prick against until he finds his release too; this is not how he expected the evening to go but it still makes Thomas just a little proud, that they can give each other such pleasure, such honesty. 

They stay close, arms around each other, and Richard is the first to speak, as ever, leaning up on his elbow to look at Thomas seriously, ‘we don’t have to, it can just be talk. If you like, that can be the end of it.’

‘No, no, I wanted to understand. I think I'd want to, for you. I could. For you,’ Thomas can feel his cheeks pinkening, not quite with embarrassment, bashfulness, maybe. He might have overplayed his hand slightly, revealed how much the idea has captured his imagination, but Richard lets him off the hook with another kiss. It’s a good thing that they want to enjoy this together. 

‘Whenever you’d like.’

It should be whenever _he’d_ like, by rights, but Thomas takes the words as they’re given; when he’s thought about it some more Richard will be ready and if the time never comes that will be fine too. 

*

He does think about it. Of course he thinks about it. All week he considers the stunning turn of Richard’s head, thrown back against the pillows, the tendons in his neck straining as he works to get his pleasure, to be given it.

Thomas spends days circling around it in his mind and he knows that if they are to move forward they’ll have to talk about it again and in the sober light of day this time. If only to allay his anxieties, give him the means to take charge in a situation where he feels totally out of his depth. 

Richard is the yardstick for his confidence, as always, setting out in no uncertain terms what he expects, what he likes, the signs that mean stop or carry on when words won’t come. 

It doesn’t escape him the significance of what Richard is handing him here. Beyond the practicalities, he’s giving Thomas a not insignificant amount of control. Trusting him to take them somewhere new. 

*

Thomas is warring with his own anticipation and apprehension as they head up to bed on the appointed evening. He almost wishes they hadn’t scheduled the moment so specifically so he would have less time to worry about it; he wants to do this right for Richard, give him what he wants as best he can.

He’s ready, hands clean and nails trimmed, and his anxiety simmers to tense excitement as Richard comes into the bedroom drying his hair but otherwise completely naked and it makes Thomas, sat on the bed in his shirt and trousers, feel entirely overdressed. 

‘Do you want me dressed or?’ 

Richard is backlit by the light in the hallway, rivulets of water dripping from his hair to his chest, and the look he gives Thomas tells him the answer to that in no uncertain terms. Thomas hurries to comply. 

They start, as usual, with a kiss, Thomas sat on the bed and Richard leaning over him until they both sink down onto it. Thomas runs his hands over Richard’s back, over the warm skin, still damp in places from his bath, and lets himself be kissed. 

‘Are you ready to start,’ Thomas says into the hot, close space between them, his lips brushing Richard’s cheek as he speaks. 

‘Yes, are you?’

He’s done this, or something close to it, so many times, this is just like that, only more so, in every respect, and Thomas is as ready as he’ll ever be so he’s decisive when he answers, ‘yes.’

Richard is half hard already when they break apart to reposition themselves; Thomas on his knees at the foot of the bed, Richard against the pillows. They’ll move again if they need to but neither of them wants to feel too far away from each other just yet. Thomas waits a beat, finds a moment of calm amid the pounding of his heart, his eagerness and his desire. They’ll take this slow, he isn’t just making Richard ready, the goal is beyond that and worth more than Thomas finding his own pleasure, which can be put aside for later. 

The vaseline is new, unopened and waiting, bought explicitly for this purpose and Thomas had to wander about for several minutes in the street before he had the courage to duck into the chemists and buy it, as if his intentions would be written all over his face. He reaches for the jar, considers and slicks two fingers. It’s a start. 

Their eyes meet and Richard's smile is so broad and ecstatic it’s overwhelming, ‘thank you.’ 

Thomas shakes his head and shifts forward, hooking one of Richard’s legs over his thigh, pressing a finger to his entrance, touching him lightly, not inside, not yet. It still makes Richard whine and tip his hips forward even though Thomas hadn’t meant to tease; he just doesn’t want to get carried away and not quite make it to where they’re meant to be heading. 

His first finger slips inside easily, Richard had been thorough with his bath, slowly moving in and out from fingertip to palm, so he goes back in with two, just to the first knuckle and stills to let Richard get used to the feeling. When Richard rocks against him, working Thomas’s fingers deeper inside himself, that’s when Thomas starts to move with more purpose. He spreads his fingers as he pulls them out and is rewarded by a moan from Richard who relaxes against the pillows like he didn’t know he was holding himself back. 

Thomas crosses and uncrosses his fingers as he pushes back in, turns his hand, bends them as he withdraws and Richard’s hips kick.

‘ _Fuck_ , there.’

He doesn't really mean it, _there_ will get them to the end much too fast, but Thomas can’t resist now that he’s found it and Richard rocks his hips eagerly, enjoying himself too much to stop. In the end it’s Thomas who moves on, with a kiss to Richard’s hipbone, back to working him open rather than working him over the edge. 

Thomas gets more vaseline on his fingers and goes back in with three, folded together, and this is where they were the evening they first talked about this. Richard looks just as beautiful as he did then, if not slightly more coherent, and they still have a way to go, there’s no need to get ahead of themselves, but his prick is fully hard now, flat against his belly and Thomas has to resist touching him there. 

‘Is this ok?’ 

‘Yes, God.’ 

Ever so slowly Thomas moves his fingers back, almost out, flattening them as he does so and Richard huffs out a sound that’s almost a laugh, almost a moan and it’s the best thing Thomas has ever heard. He closes his fingers again as he presses back in and he can almost imagine that he can feel the small bones of his fingers grinding together in the vice-like grip of Richard’s body. How will it feel when he has four fingers inside him, five, _more._

‘That’s enough,’ says Richard and it takes a moment for Thomas to realise he means he wants _more,_ that he’s had enough of Thomas’s teasing. His tone is conversational, not whispered or rising in volume, and Thomas looks up in something like alarm but Richard is only holding out the vaseline to him, ‘more of this.’

‘Right, sorry,’ Thomas eases his fingers out watching Richard’s face, the minute tick of his cheek and the light in his eyes. They are closer than they have ever been in this moment. 

‘Is this ok?’ he asks again, three fingers around his rim, waiting.

‘Yes, love.’ 

Thomas puts his fingers together and presses inside, the slide of it is easy now, Richard so open and ready for him. 

‘Could you take another?’ 

Richard nods but Thomas doesn’t change his pace, keeps his fingers wide as he draws them out, presses back in as he closes them. He wants Richard greedy for more, beyond ready for it each time they step forward. It’s not that he wants him to beg, not quite, only for him to have wrung every ounce of pleasure from this, to have taken everything he wants and more. He moves his fingers, just the tips around the rim of Richard’s entrance, feeling the give and the pull back. The stretch is easier now and with each movement Richard’s muscles loosen, giving Thomas more access and Richard more pleasure. 

‘OK, now you can take another,’ says Thomas.

‘Tease.’

‘How can I be a tease when I’m giving you precisely what you want?’

‘You seem to be managing it,’ Richard's voice is tense, expectant, and Thomas gives in.

With more vaseline he’s able to press his little finger in with the rest as slowly as he can, watching Richard’s face all the while. He’s closed his eyes and he seems to sink into the extra fullness with a sigh, finding a new plateau of sensation and revelling in it. They’ve done this before, with four fingers, but rarely, and Thomas recognises the experience of a sensation that is at once familiar and so very new at the same time. 

He spreads his fingers and Richard hisses with something like discomfort. Thomas quickly presses them back together once more, moving slowly in and out instead. It seems to be the best approach for now and soon Richard is going with the motion, tipping his hips against Thomas’s hand and when Thomas spreads his fingers this time it makes Richard gasp with pleasure. 

There’s a strange give and take between them. Thomas is only touching Richard with his hands, their legs entwined incidentally, and Thomas is not being touched at all, but every new sensation that passes over Richard’s face seems to come back to him. He can feel it all, focused somehow through the movement of his hand, desire coalescing at the base of his spine. It’s not a desire to be touched so much as to witness this; Richard slowly letting go, giving every bit of himself to the experience, putting himself in Thomas’s hands and trusting he’ll be safe. 

Richard opens his eyes, ‘Thomas, Thomas, please. More.’

‘Are you sure?’ 

This is the moment Thomas will be heading into the unknown and he wants to make absolutely certain that Richard is ready for it. Richard’s hands are clutching the sheet, he couldn’t reach to touch Thomas if he tried and from this position the closest bit of Richard to Thomas’s mouth is his knee, raised over Thomas’s thigh, so he bends his head to kiss him there. A reminder to be tender.

‘God, yes. Please, Thomas.’ 

The sincerity on Richard’s face is hard to argue with and it was that which got them here in the first place; Richard asking for something and Thomas wanting to give it to him. 

‘Right, OK.’ 

Now they have a decision to make. The angle is somewhat awkward to go much further and Thomas is starting to feel an ache in his limbs from being curled up at the end of the bed but he doesn’t want to lose the connection being face to face gives them. He needs to be able to see what Richard is feeling even when he can no longer find the words to say it. 

Richard finds the solution, shifting round to the side of the bed, ‘here, come to the edge, bring -, the pillows -.’

They rearrange the pillows so Richard can lie back against them, his feet on the floor and Thomas slides off the bed to settle between his legs. He can’t resist the temptation to kiss Richard there, on the soft skin of his thighs, to put his mouth to the pale flesh and suck almost hard enough to bruise. 

Richard indulges him for a moment and then there are hands in his hair and he’s looking up to see Richard raising an eyebrow, ‘don’t you have something to be getting on with?’ 

‘Patience, Mr Ellis, good things come to those who wait.’

‘If I thought for one second you believed that things would go very differently in our bed.’ 

‘I’m perfectly capable of waiting,’ Thomas starts but Richard is already laughing; they both know that’s not true when it comes to Thomas himself but thankfully Richard has enough patience for them both. 

Thomas goes up on his knees to kiss Richard quiet, one gentle hand at the nape of his neck, the other just playing, touching lightly between his legs as they kiss. Richard had softened slightly while they repositioned themselves but it doesn’t take much before he’s panting lightly into Thomas’s ear and shifting his hips against Thomas’s hand, fully hard again. Try as he might the sight of Richard is affecting, Thomas’s own prick is near enough to full hardness as well now, just to see Richard so given over to this indulgence, but he puts the feeling aside.

‘Are you ready?’ says Thomas when they break apart and Richard runs his thumb along Thomas’s bottom lip so tenderly it makes Thomas wonder if _he’s_ ready. 

‘ _Please,’_ says Richard and his voice is edging into tense, he’s already so close and they have a way to go yet. 

Thomas folds all of his fingers together and tucks his thumb into the palm of his hand. The stretch can’t be much different to four fingers until he reaches the joint of his thumb and here they pause to catch their breath. He keeps his fingers tight together and turns his hand, moving imperceptibly forward, watching Richard’s face slacken from concentration into bliss. 

He stops just at the point where the widest part of his hand is pressed against Richard’s body, just outside, four fingers and his thumb nestled snug inside him. Richard’s skin is fevered with effort, sweat shining on his collarbones, sticking his hair to his forehead, his eyes almost glassy with pleasure. Thomas is captivated by it; he can’t imagine all the sensations Richard is experiencing now and the surrender looks beautiful on him. 

‘Do you want -,’ Thomas breathes out through his nose, desperate to keep his voice level, to make sure this is all about Richard, ‘do you want to see if we can keep going?’

He knows Richard well enough to know what the answer will be but he has to be sure all the same. Richard nods emphatically and Thomas knows he’ll be able to see it through. 

At the moment of yielding Richard throws his head back, mouth open and eyes tight shut, his breath stuttered out of him and Thomas doesn’t know where to look; at Richard’s face or at his own hand. There’s a moment of resistance where Thomas thinks they might have to stop but then Richard’s body is opening and closing around him again, holding him so tightly in the hot, clutching space inside. This is like nothing he has ever felt before, hot and slick and every sense given over to Richard. 

He thinks he can feel the rapid beating of Richard’s pulse but maybe it’s his own and his voice when he speaks is hoarse and full of so much wonder, ‘good?’

Richard’s answering laugh is almost a whine and he tips his hips forward, rocks into the sensation, Thomas’s hand inside him to the wrist. Thomas keeps still, lets Richard control the movement, tiny incremental shifts. He moves again, away and then back, and Thomas reaches out to steady him, his free hand at Richard’s thigh, five points of grounding pressure and watches the shaking desperation of Richard’s whole body as he comes, prick untouched. 

He’s been inside Richard when he comes before, his fingers, his prick, so many times, but this is nothing like that. The sound Richard makes is primal and his climax seems to last for such a long time, his breath coming in short gasps, his hands gripping the sheets so hard his knuckles have gone white. It’s astonishing to watch. It’s astonishing to feel, through Thomas’s hand and into his arm, the clench of him so tight it’s like his body might not ever let go. 

There’s a gradual shift, a release, that seems to spread through Richard. He lets go of the sheets, his limbs softening, letting out a sound that’s no more than a sigh and then he sinks back against the bed, truly spent. Once he’s still, quiet and sated, Thomas murmurs a warning and begins to move. 

‘Slowly,’ says Richard hazily, as if Thomas needs telling.

Richard’s prick hasn’t softened entirely, still full against his stomach, twitching as Thomas withdraws and Thomas sits back, stunned, his bare arse against the rug, staring in wonder at Richard sprawled against the sheets, clean hand hooked around Richard’s calf because he doesn’t want to let him go. He has just enough wherewithal to reach for the towel to wipe his other hand as awareness of his own body comes back to him. There are pins and needles in his feet, his own prick is so hard it hurts, but there’s no urgency to any of it; he would wait a whole lifetime for Richard to be ready to touch him in return.

‘Look at you,’ Richard’s cheeks are pink, flushed, when he looks up and he’s beaming, ‘come here.’

‘Look at me? I’m not the one who just had a hand up his arse,’ Thomas grouses but he still stumbles to the bed and into Richard’s embrace. 

‘Still, look at you,’ says Richard as he kisses Thomas, soft and open.

Thomas gazes at him, holding Richard close, 'are you ok?'

‘I'm wonderful, Thomas, thank you,' he shifts his thigh between Thomas's legs, 'now, what can I do for you?’

Thomas shakes his head, ‘anything.’ 

Richard touches him with such tender affection, gentle and mindful of how long it’s been since they started, how long Thomas has been hard and wanting. He’s leaking already and Richard swipes his thumb against the crown of Thomas’s prick, spreading the wet there, stroking down to the base and back up with the rhythm Thomas uses on himself. The breath Thomas lets out is a shuddering thing and he gives in to it, he can let go now because Richard is taken care of and satisfied and for once he’s not going to make Thomas wait longer than he wants to. 

‘That’s it love,’ Richard says against his neck, kisses him there, ‘take what you need.’

What Thomas needs is to come, suddenly and desperately, thinking about what they’ve done this evening, hearing Richard say it. 

‘Tell me how it felt.’

Richard doesn’t need more to know what he means as he speeds up the slide of his hand. 

‘It was perfect. Just what I wanted. I was so full and so open and you were so deep inside of me. We can do it again, if you’d like. Or I could do it to you. How would you feel about that? You take me so well, Thomas, how would you like to take more of me?’ 

It's sudden and overwhelming as Thomas gasps out his climax, his head thrown back against the sheets and Richard strokes him through it, easing it out of him, not stopping until Thomas is fully spent and lax in his arms. It was never going to be anything else but the thought of Richard opening him up, making space for himself inside Thomas’s body, taking Thomas to a place where he has to give over all of his control and just succumb to it. He has never been as trusting as Richard, or as certain, and it’s terrifying to admit he might want that some day, that he could give himself over like that. If anyone could get him there it would be Richard. 

When he opens his eyes Richard is smiling down at him, kisses Thomas across his cheeks, his brow, lightly at the corner of his mouth, ‘thank you.’

After all that it’s this, Richard’s sincere gratitude, that makes Thomas blush and he has to hide his face against Richard’s neck.

‘You only ever have to ask.’

‘I know. Thank you for saying yes,’ says Richard as he shrugs his shoulder, forcing Thomas to look at him, to accept the truth of what exists between them.

‘I liked it. I liked seeing you like that.’

‘Like what? At your mercy?’ Richard laughs, kisses the crease between Thomas’s eyebrows when he frowns at being teased.

 _‘No_. Given over like that. Lost to everything but pleasure.’

‘That’s how you make me feel, Thomas. Whatever we’re doing. I don’t need to be in control when I know you are.’ 

‘I certainly like the idea of it. I just don’t know if I’m there yet, to give up control like that. Let me have some time to think on it?’ 

Richard kisses him again and smiles, ever so easy, ‘of course. Whenever you’d like.’

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [tumblr!](https://lacerta26.tumblr.com)


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